The floor is still wet from last week’s rain.
A vicious tap routine on the rooftop.
Our souls intertwined as our bodies realigned
to the noise outside the window.
I remember it like I remember a dream.
In drips and drabs and your face a blur
and me watching us from the heavens.
You looked the other way
as your rough hands caressed
my humble breasts
like they were too afraid to hold my heart.
Like all they knew was to rip apart.
I moved with you
in waves that slowly swelled
to crash on the shorelines of my hips.
Your tongue traced lies upon my lips.
I said I wanted this.
See, my mind took pieces of you that it liked
and threw pieces of you that it didn’t aside.
So only the perfect of you could shine.
It wasn’t the wrong place or the wrong time.
It was the wrong thinking that you were mine
while knowing that you were hers first.
You were heavy and I was weak.
Loneliness will do that to your mind.
I got so caught up in your misery
that I believed there was a place for me
inside of a thing I was forced to hide.
Like maybe if she had treated you better
then you wouldn’t be looking for better outside.
For believing I could fix what I didn’t break
and in turn break everything for a lonely fix.
The floor is still wet from last weak’s reign.
Megan C Lucas